A Whole New World
by ollotoyouto
Summary: Mostly everything that anyone knew about Peter was a lie.He lives in the real world and has a big problem, and to top it off, he finds himself falling for a human girl, Wendy, who isn't exactly what he expected.Some angst. Peter and Wendy.
1. Whipped

A/N- My first fanfic, hope you like it =)

~.~.~

Wendy Darling. She was age fifteen with brownish hair which she kept long, bordering her pale skin. Her large gray eyes had the reputation of mesmerizing most people, it is sometimes even said that you could see right down to her kind soul through her eyes.

Wendy, her brother John and her mother, Mary, live in a two story house on the edge of Ireland. Her father had been shot and killed by a drunken robber, on his way home from work. But luckily, her father had been a successful business man and had left a lot of money in the bank for the Darling family. That had happened almost over four years ago, when Mrs. Darling was pregnant with her first son, John.

The fact that Mr. Darling had left money for the rest of his family did not console Mary Darling one bit. She felt like her whole world had come crashing down on her shoulders. Her husband was dead. Wendy had helped her mother cope with Mr. Darling's death, but sometimes she felt like she hadn't been coping well herself. But Wendy couldn't worry much about herself, as she had her mother and John to worry about. Mary, being consumed with grief, was in no condition to care after a newborn baby, leaving Wendy to play the part of mother. The two siblings spent most of the time around the house or playing on the small beach just outside the Darlings' house. It was splendidly convenient in the summer time.

The rocks by the shore was where Wendy was currently sitting. She enjoyed this particular spot for a number of reasons. One was that she absolutely loved the sound of waves crashing over the rocks, it relaxed her of worries and she was free to think. Wendy also took pleasure from the fact that John was not around to scream in her ears or throw tantrums, she loved her brother but sometimes she needed to be alone. All in all, sitting by the rocks calmed Wendy enough for her to muse about anything she wished. Also the sun setting was a glorious sight, simply breathtaking.

On this particular occasion, Wendy was pondering about what would have happened if her father had stayed home from work that day. What if he had taken a different route home? What if he had stayed later than usual at work? What if? She let out a tired sigh as the sun finally sunk beneath the horizon.

Wendy thought of how well her mother was doing. In the beginning, anytime someone mentioned George Darling, she would break down into tears. If truth be told, she would break down at random points in the day when her own thoughts betrayed her and strayed toward her dead husband. But now Mary laughed more often, played with John, talked with Wendy and cried over her dead husband only during some nights when she thought no one was listening. But Wendy was, she was listening because the same thoughts were running through her head. She let out a tired sigh as the sun finally sunk beneath the horizon.

Suddenly a sharp noise to her right made Wendy turn. It sounded like a shell cracking into tiny pieces. Wendy looked around but saw nothing; however she did see a rather large footprint on the sand, just before the waves washed it away. Wendy's breath caught in her throat as the feeling of paranoia spread through her body. She thought of the horrible possibilities of who it could have been. Was it the man who killed her father? Had he come back to finish the job?

Her mind was telling her to run, but her body was frozen. Another noise to her left kicked her out of her paralyzed state. She tried to push off the rocks and run toward her house. Strong arms locked around her slender frame, Wendy tried to kick pull away but she couldn't. Her captor was too strong for her. The light of the moon shone in her face and she tried to scream, but a large scarred hand clamped around her lips. The taste of his skin bought bile to her throat and she bit down hard on the hand. It tasted of salt and grime.

A deep male voice cursed lowly and he kicked Wendy in the shin. To Wendy's credit she did try hard, but the man was way too strong for her to fight off alone. Then she felt a wet cloth shoved over her mouth and nose, her fruitless attempts to scream were squandered by the cloth. Unexpectedly she felt dizzy and closed her eyes. Everything would be better if she closed her eyes. The man would go away; she would sit at the table with John and her mother. Mother. Then everything went blank.

~.~.~

The boy flew in the shadows watching the waves wash over shore, crash into the rocks and retreat back. He felt the salty air whip through his dirty blonde hair, making it slightly tangled. The moonlight glinted in the boy's sparkling green eyes and flushed across his vaguely tanned skin.

He rarely flew this way, but he hadn't been to Ireland in a long time. The ocean had always soothed Peter, and he had never felt quite comfortable anywhere else. Peter, just Peter, a two thousand four hundred and fifty year old immortal with magical abilities, who looked like a fifteen year old boy had come to the real world to escape what the faeries had planned for him. To think, the king of Neverland, being ordered by beings shorter than him? Absurd.

Technically speaking, the earth was his real home, but he had found himself in a beautiful place at a young age, with no recollection of how he had ended up place, Peter didn't know what to call it, was filled with magic and all sorts of amazing things that would make any one begging to be taken there, and Peter had the luxury of living there for almost a century, until he chose to leave. Peter did have trouble adjusting to a completely different world with different rules, no magic, and so much violence, but he had managed.

Luckily Peter had bought his considerably large imagination with him, which is partly the reason for his magical abilities. Peter found it utterly depressing to be away from his magical getaway and felt that he could maybe bring it back. True, he himself had made the choice to leave his enchantingly subsequent home, but he was going to bring it back in any way that he could. And that was the birth of Peter Pan, the flying boy who was the first Lost Boy and ruler of Neverland (which is what he had decided to call the magical place, as it currently had no name). He wrote under the pseudonym J.M. Barrie and had his book published. It did take a while though, learning the new language, and getting the book published. But, as Peter was still not aging, he had all the time in the world, and eventually the book was published.

From the moment it was published, the book became immensely popular. And as time progressed, it only got more admired. Plays were written, toys of the thrilling Peter Pan were made, movies created, video games made, they even named a brand of peanut butter after the amazing Peter Pan. Disney had to be the best thing that happened to Peter's story.

All the funds went to J.M. Barrie, but at some point Mr. Barrie had to die, so Peter now collects the cash under J.M. Barrie's great great great great grandson, Tyler Mark Barrie.

Clearly, money was not a problem for Peter. He had houses all over the world, private jets and a number of other interesting things, but nothing compared to flying through the night sky, feeling the cool breeze on his face and knowing that it was real, not just a dream. Though there was something that was _bothering _Peter, but he pushed it to the corners of his mind. For now.

He spread his arms out and floated in the cool ocean breeze. As Peter swayed gently, he thought he heard a soft sigh, it was heavy with despair and weariness, but it sounded feminine. He wondered aimlessly where the source of the sigh was coming from, probably a hard core tourist. The beautiful coves and clear waters filled with dolphins and porpoises were the main attractions for curious couples, but not too many; that was the beauty of this beach, most of the time you could have the privacy you wanted. Peter didn't think too much about the source of the sigh, he was busy enjoying himself.

The sun had sunk into the ocean, and Peter got ready to take off. Fly somewhere new, which oddly was not impossible, one might think that Peter would have covered the entire surface of the earth in his time of being immortal, but he had not. But the nagging thought always came back, living for forever is an awfully long time.

Then, without warning, Peter heard sounds of someone struggling. It broke him out of his thoughts. Was it the girl who was sighing?

It took Peter about five seconds to realize that he was going to have to save this girl. If he had known how much trouble he would have ended up in, Peter might have forgotten her. Might have left her to deal with her own problems. But he gently flew down to the rocks that lined part of the shore.

He couldn't see much, but he saw the shadow of a bulky figure, male, and the slender form of a girl. The man seemed to be holding something over the struggling girl's mouth. Out of the blue, the girl stopped struggling, her body went limp. Was she dead?

Peter had a sudden urge to murder the man who put the girl in harm's way. He wanted to make sure that this creature would never even think of harming another person. Peter couldn't explain the feelings coursing thorough his body, but he was running on pure adrenaline. Before Peter had a chance to think things through and come up with a better plan, he found himself soaring full speed toward the gigantic man, who heard the sound of an attack coming, and turned with his fists raised.

But Peter ducked under the hulky hands and head butted the attacker in the stomach, causing him to drop the girl and double up in pain. But he still didn't give up. The man pulled himself together and swung a punch toward his masked attacker. But Peter kicked him in the stomach, causing him to release any air he had left.

Peter heard the man trying to gasp for air, fill his filthy, no doubt cancer infested, lungs with fresh air; however, Peter had different ideas. He curled his fingers into a fist and pulled back his arm, then snapped it forward, punching the man square on his throat. He heard the bulking figure choke in pain and fall to the sandy beach. The fall from the steep rocks was enough to render the man unconscious, though not dead. Probably.

Peter carefully made his way toward the fallen girl, who looked like she was about to fall into the ocean. He picked her up, cradling her, and then he flew them both off the rocks. In mid-flight, Peter felt a jerk run through his body and he almost dropped the girl. He frowned into the night sky, wondering why these kinds of things had to happen when he was in a situation where he was helping a certain someone, who had a considerable control over his feelings- for reasons unheard of, who could certainly fall from his arms, dooming them both.  
When they were safely on the beach, Peter laid the girl gently on the sand. She looked okay, no scratches or marks on her face, but her arms were beginning to form bruises where the brute had grabbed her. But she wasn't waking up, and there was an oddly sweet smell on her. Peter leaned in closer and sniffed her face, feeling ridiculous, but then he recognized it. The sickly sweet smelling substance on the girl was chloroform; Peter realized that that was what the man was doing when he had covered the girl's face with his meaty hands. He checked her pulse to make sure she wasn't dead, and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the steady pump of blood flowing through her veins under his fingers.

Peter let out a sigh into the dark night and looked up. He saw millions of twinkling lights surrounding the half moon. He let out a low chuckle, the recent events of that night seemed like someone had pulled it out of a romance movie. His eyes wandered back to the fallen girl's face. Now that he was really _looking _at her, not just examining her injuries, he realized that she was rather pretty. Her pale face glowed in the light of the moon, and her brown hair was spread out like a halo around her head. She had thick eyelashes framing her shut eyelids and a slim nose. Her full lips were slightly parted reveling a peak of white teeth. All in all, she was beautiful, and her beauty disoriented Peter. He didn't usually fall for humans, but this one had him completely whipped. And he didn't even know her name. Sometimes, Peter thought, puberty is a real pain.

When he came back to the real world, he realized that he had a choice, he could either stay the same age forever, or grow older. It was a delicate matter, considering Peter lived to not grow up, but in the end, he had decided an adult can do so much more in this world than a child. Anyways, it wasn't like he was going to lose his gift of magic. The only slip up was that once he grew up, he would never be able to become a child again- no matter how much magic was used. It was a tough decision, and Peter had only just made the choice. The bodily and mental changes were making him regret his decision, but it was going to be worth it. Oh, and may pimples and zits burn in the pits of hell, they were the bane of his existence. His normally adorable face was temporarily covered in them, but thankfully the acne and been receding and his face was pimple clear.

All Peter could do was sit there and wait until the sleeping beauty opened her eyes. He entertained himself by etching every last detail of her face into his mind, because he knew that once she was okay, he had to leave. He had already jeopardized her by helping her at all. Peter flashed a grim smile at the irony of the situation.

There was also the matter of the slumbering bear that had attacked the girl. Peter considered the thought of tying the man and hold him for questioning later, but he didn't have any rope, even if he did, by the size of the muscles on the man, Peter thought that he could easily break through them. So Peter decided to take a large flat raft that was anchored to one of the rocks, and pulled the guy onto the raft, hoping that he wouldn't wake in the process. As he did this, Peter marveled at his quick thinking, planning, and putting it all into action.

When the man was successfully on the raft and still snoring like a baby, Peter pushed the raft, man and all, into the swaying waves, with enough force to send him toward the middle of the ocean.

"He sure will be mad when he wakes up" Peter chuckled to no one in particular.

When the job was done, Peter flew up to one of the closer rocks and settled down to wait for the sleeping girl to wake up.

- I had way to much fun playing Peter's part ;) R&R thanks for reading!


	2. Friends and Troubles

I want to take my time away… (jk)… to thank CullenHathaway and Iluvhorses1997

For being the first to review. I'm sorry about the delay and without further ado (I have always wanted to say that and the internet is probably the best chance I'll get ;)) here is the second chapeter! Enjoy.

The morning sea air swept the salty smell towards the shore, where Wendy still lay unconscious. Slowly, the cool air tickled her skin enough to waken the sleeping girl. Wendy opened her eyes, and immediately shut them. The sun was just rising, and the influx of sunlight hurt her eyes. Suddenly, the events of last night played before her eyes, and she suddenly was on full guard. She made her body rigid and opened her eyes just a crack, so that she was looking through her lashes.

Wendy didn't see anything out of place, just a glorious sun rise setting the water on fire and the only noises to be heard were the soft crash of waves on the rocks. One of which she was laying on… Wendy couldn't remember much about last night, just that she tried to fight off a big and strong man, but had failed. Why did he leave her here? Was her body okay? Was she even alive? At this point Wendy didn't know what to believe, just that if she was alive, she was probably one of the luckiest girls in the world.

The rush of panic that had swept through her body left her dizzy with head rush. She slowly pulled herself up into sitting position and rubbed her forehead. The bright rays of the sun pierced her eyes, making her shield her eyes, and look around. Not a single person in sight, not even marks in the sand. The ocean waves must have washed them away, an observer would have never been able to guess the events of last night had even happened.

She hoisted herself onto her elbows and looked down at her self, doing a quick check of her vitals. She looked pretty okay, considering last nights ordeal, just a few bruises and a rip in her jeans.

Then Wendy remembered, her mother. What time was it? Mary would be so worried, Wendy never stayed out until after eleven. She didn't like to worry her mother. Wendy jumped off the rocks and on to the sand. She noticed how soft sand looked as the suns rays blanketed it, but as Wendy landed on it, she thought, quite the contraire. She had decided not to tell her mother about her almost attack. Mary had enough on her plate already.

Wendy would have ran straight home, to calm down her mother, had she not run straight into a figure and knocked herself to the ground. Fear and panic seeped into Wendy again, she had no doubt that it was the man from last night, come to finish his job. She looked up and saw a boy about her age, wavy blonde hair and piercing green eyes.

Relief replaced the panic and then irritation took over. Who was this boy and why was he blocking her? Why didn't he move when he saw her running? And when in the world had he even come here? She defiantly had not noticed him while lying on the rock, but given she could have made a mistake, considering her brain was still a bit fuzzy.

But why was he just standing there watching her? Wendy couldn't take it anymore with strange men overpowering her. She felt weak.

"Whoa- I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be in such a rush" the blonde boy said apologetically to her, reaching out a hand to help her.

Wendy stared at the hand and helped herself up thank you very much. The boy awkwardly pulled back his arm. Wendy felt a twinge of guilt, she wasn't used to being rude or mean.

"Um… Well, I saw you kinda fainted on the rock, and I was waiting for you to come around, in case you needed assistance". The boy really did look sincere, Wendy smilied slightly, making up for her rudeness.

"Oh, thank you for your concern, but really you needn't have done that"

"Wow, hey your from England, I was born there, but, I ended up living elsewhere" the boy smiled a charming and warm smile that made it seem like he knew the worlds greatest secret.

"Yeah, I am from England, but listen I have to go, really thought, thanks for your help- and I'm sorry about ignoring your hand, I was just… being cautious" Wendy finished and was getting ready to leave when,

"Well, before you go, can I at least get your name?" the boy asked tentatively, as if wondering if he was pushing his luck. Wendy's eyes narrowed, but then she felt like it was the least she could do, god knows how long the poor boy waited for her to finally get off her lazy bum.

"Wendy, Wendy Darling" she said. "What about yours?"

The boy hesitated and Wendy smiled playfully,

"Are you going to leave me hanging?" She asked.

"No I guess not, my names' Peter" he replied, not bothering to include his last name, which made Wendy blush wondering why in the world had she decided to include her last name.

Peter raised an eyebrow, construing her blush to something different, which made her blush darker, then she burst out laughing. It was so unexpected that she lost her fragile balance and fell back on to the sand.

The waves decided that it was the correct time to come in, and they rolled over her, consuming the tops of her thighs. She felt the odd sensation as though the water was pulling her in, inviting her to it's depths. She started up at Peter, who had an unfathomable expression, then he burst into laughter as well.

Wendy eventually joined in, she couldn't resist a good laugh, and soon they were both in the sand laughing.

"Wh- hy are we lau- aughing?" Wendy asked between fits of giggles.

"I'm not sure" Peter replied, which set off another round.

Wendy let the laughs go with a slight sigh and lay back down in the sand, her mind was still a bit unclear, but getting better. She turned her head to see Peter staring at the waves, which had long since receded.

"So Peter, what were you doing here so early?" Wendy asked when she felt that the silence was becoming to stuffy.

"Just talking a walk, the ocean calms me. I like to reminisce. Can I ask why you were knocked out on a rock, hopefully not because you were intoxicated." he answered, grinning.

"I think not, I am much to sensible for that. But I wasn't here by my own choice, well I was, but then I… I fell asleep and I guess I forgot to wake up." Wendy answered, she blessed her quick thinking, deciding to keep the whole crazy attacker to herself.

She didn't want to cause something big, and what was she going to say anyways- "This man attacked me and I fainted, I don't know him, nor can I describe his profile, and I don't know where he went, and oh by the way I'm not hurt." She would be lucky not to get kicked out the door for that statement.

"That is possible, but I like the drunk-pass out on beach rocks story better." Peter chuckled.

"Hey, hey I was absou-"

"WENDY MOIRA ANGELA DARLING!" yelled a scarily familiar voice, it was a loud screech that made Wendy jump a foot in the air.

She turned away from the waves to see herself face to face with her very angry, very tired, and very threatening mother.

Ah, I didn't like it that much. It was way too short for me. Am I talking in third person about my own story? Or is it second? Maybe first? I forgot, but I am really sorry, what with school and essays and Jane Eyre I have been so busy. I will try to update, and make it better this time. Read and Review! Or R&R. I don't care which one, just do it!


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